Once Upon a Time
by Akari-chan
Summary: No stories lived in that cold place. [KingRolan, mentions of RolanPhantom and PhantomAlviss]


This story, as bad as it may turn out to be, goes to Vivid4 because she just gave me the idea. I'm sorry. I've made some mentions to Phantom and Alviss.  
I was tempted.

Anyway, concrit is love. And MÄR isn't mine, (in)fortunately, or it wouldn't be a show for kids..

Akari-chan

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'Once upon a time' – strangely, books never begun like this anymore.

Caressing the yellowish pages, running the fingers carefully through the lines, all Rolan could perceive was the strong smell of old and dust. There were no fairytales impressed in the fading ink, and in the case of stains of sweat or grease being found there, certainly an accordingly punishment would follow later.

If a children's tear happened to fall and blur the outcome of a sad romance, an equivalent book wouldn't be found in that library, because all its volumes were thick and hard to comprehend, full of scientific terms and mathematic formulas. Sometimes, they involved drawings, but only the kind of technical ones. The monsters' pictures on it belonged to real creatures that craved for blood and had other inhuman desires. One or other xylography from unicorns or enchanting chimeras were printed - just to be mocked at, the weakest points of such frail beings' complexion being shown without mercy.

No stories lived in that cold place, but the blond boy loved it anyway. Books made him vaguely remember the time he had a home, when he had mother and father. A time so long ago he had forgotten about, a live he wished to remember, to keep close and safe, but that faded away because the castle was his home now, the Chess his family, the ones to keep next to him. And, too, because he couldn't change the fact that his parents were dead while_they_ were alive.

Now he had Phantom to protect, to please and to love. Just like family, Rolan concluded when he thought about the matter, though only a little bit more special. It was hard to get attention from him, though, but for always cheerful Rolan it didn't matter. A smile or pout carefully placed on the lips to look as fake as possible - but not near Phantom, never near Phantom. For the first Knight of Chess, his happiness was always truthful. Even if Phantom never looked at him. Even if Phantom never loved him.

The important thing was…

The most important was…

Actually, the Orb didn't care for what was important to Rolan. Watching the story unfold from behind the curtains, well, nothing could please the King more.

First, his looks at the lives of his subordinates were a test. Loyalty was highly appreciated - if even a Knight was considered dishonest by the King, immediate execution followed him afterwards.

After that, well, the leader of Chess took it to a more personal level. The Orb was a creature of malice and treachery, thus the King had dark desires, too. He longed to possess and to destroy. He could no longer feel happiness, so his pleasure laid in corrupting and in turning black the broken hearts. Curiosity for the first time entered into his being. A look - just a look - into the pathetic lives he could end with a hand movement.

He didn't like people to know he observed them, though.

And, one day, somehow it grew tedious again - having an eternity to spend is a boring condition. Men with no reasons to live killed others to entertain themselves. Women hurt by old loves became cold enough to feel nothing towards the World. He had seen it. Who else joined the Chess ranks? Humans - funny creatures they were in the beginning. Everyone could be corrupted, he liked that. But it was so easy, so… Uninteresting. Time after time, over and over again, always fighting for 'order' and always ending with nothing but 'chaos'.

Humanity repeated the same mistakes. It was no secret, then, that the King thought all humans were like that.

That was, of course, until he met Rolan. He was a fading vision, a child trapped in Phantom's arms. Thin limbs that seemed to mix and make a mess of the shy boy, who often held his legs up to his chest, embracing himself until the first Knight of Chess appeared near him. Then his smile would lit, his frail body would just gain the strength of a powerful rook that he even wasn't yet.

It was clear as a vision that he, too, would be corrupted soon. As one of the favorites of Phantom and a beautiful boy, whose looks could be compared to one of a lady's, it was easy to get hold of power. Soon, with hard train, he even could control powerful ÄRMs. Connections, beauty, strength - those three aspects could grant him his every desire, his most profound wish. Using his charming smile and delicate features to take advantage of those who thought of him as weak, pointing the ones he didn't like as traitors to his superior…

The King was surprised when he noticed Rolan never did one of those.

He instantly took a liking of the boy, and found himself observing his life daily. Train, work… Dull and boring were the moments when the boy picked a volume to read, becoming absorbed into his own thoughts. With interest, the King watched the fights and Rolan's relationships with the other knights – and even the boy from MÄRHeaven's team, Alviss, the one who hated Phantom for killing the man whose body belonged to him now. Danna…

Well, he was much more interested in Rolan's feelings. He didn't care about the boy, never did, in fact, but it was simply a strange curiosity, too close to desire for his own comfort.

He had lost his feelings back, back away then. Like Phantom, who barely remembered the hate and the pain, the charm in the King's life was attending the demands of his own needs. It had been a long time ago that he found an interest in someone.

For a creature which lived of playing with other people's lives, it was a most scary, even though delicious, fact.

Phantom knew it well. He was the object of all of Rolan's attention and affection. The boy lived for him, would die for him…

The King laughed so much when he discovered the Knight would never return the boy's feelings. He was a fool, Rolan. That was what the King saw: a romantic child trapped in a castle of horrors. Rolan couldn't even notice Phantom had already lost his heart, and what remained of it was enclosed into a strong desire for the blue haired boy from team MÄR. Not love, definitely not even a glimpse of it. For Phantom was a dead man, and dead men can't feel. Only such a strong emotion, like hate, shook his heart. He could understand and adore the will of Alviss, that wanted him to be destroyed above all. In the end, his world was made of hate, and that boy's world was built towards him and his death. Phantom knew too well that Alviss would kill him someday, and then, Alviss' existence would fade, too. He was fine with that, and he wanted the boy for that. The Knight needed to destroy, to manipulate, to seduce and charm and hate: that kind of fiery hate that burns so strongly as love.

But still, Rolan surprised him once more. The King discovered it never mattered anyway if Phantom loved the blond child or not: Rolan could wish and cry silently at night, lulling himself to sleep at never fulfilled dreams of sweet kisses and warm embraces, but even when the stares exchanged between Phantom and Alviss at the battles were more obvious, or the commentaries the Knight proudly made at the hall about the growing tattoo were louder, Rolan still…

He never made anything different. He was still loyal, obedient. A perfect servant. When Phantom ordered him to fight Alviss or talk to him, he would do so without a change in his smile, without a fickle in his eyelids that would drop a tear. At first, the King thought it was because Rolan was an idiot, but later he learned the boy simply understood that it was the best way of behavior to make Phantom like him the most. He would never be wanted as Alviss was, he would never be this noticed. And he understood, too, that he would never make the Knight happy (and nobody could make Phantom happy, he got it too, but being with Alviss was the closest to happiness that Phantom could feel, the one that a man walking towards his own destruction felt while whistling a bittersweet melody). His childish kisses would never please the man as Alviss' raged, unwilling ones, did. His words of love would never reach the Knight as Alviss' curses, his fading heartbeats weren't the same as Alviss'. Phantom wouldn't smile for him in that charming, cunning way.

In a miserable, resigned way, Rolan still wished the best for Phantom, even if he wasn't part of it.

Such a beauty, such a pure heart left untouched. A sad love would only make it sweeter. It sickened the King to no end, and that was the time when he decided to not only watch anymore.

Rolan was carefully pressing his index finger against the first line of a book, trying to accompany it with a small difficulty, when Peta arrived. The man had a unique way of walking, and his steps slid through the hallway without an echoing sound. That's how Rolan always knew when the man was coming: his clothes would rustle and the boy would notice his smell, his iron smell of the blood ghastly sprayed over his mantle, the stains that were permanently not there (Rolan never knew exactly how to explain this, but even after cleaning himself, for Peta was very polite not to do so after battles, he always looked fully covered in blood).

After opening the large, hallow wooden door with a creak, the man bowed his head.

"The King is asking for your presence."

Rolan noticed that 'asking' meant 'demanded' in Peta's elegant voice and measured hand gestures as the man extended his right arm towards the exit of the library's room. He also knew too well not to question 'why?', even though he was very curious.

Rolan was by no means low ranked, but still, he wasn't a Knight as powerful as Peta or Phantom. His strength had no difference among the other Zodiac Knights, though he had never heard about one being called to great King's throne either. His eyes glittered with obvious anxiety, if fear or joy, it was not known. His hands were suddenly sweating, and Peta looked at them with obvious displeasure since they were over precious books. The boy quickly got himself up and, after adjusting the seat at its right place, made a mention to put the books away, quickly cut by Peta, who in a flicker of eyelids stood near Rolan and held the volumes protectively against his chest.

"He's asking for you, and you alone. Go." One long fingernail caressed the leather cover with care as the man spoke. He rubbed the thumb against it, feeling the texture and experiencing obvious contempt in freeing the book from the hands of an inexperienced boy, who could as much get it ruined with all of his clumsy gestures and general messiness.

Still, the boy was surprised.

"O-okay…" He said, wanting to start some sort of conversation. At least he wanted to know why he was called – without Phantom or Peta being present, no less! But the man was already too lost in his own world full of curses and magic spells written in old languages, and Rolan couldn't dare to disturb him anymore. Above all, Peta's last warning was for him to hurry, because the King wouldn't like him to arrive in retard, of course.

The young boy shuddered and made his way to the Throne room.

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I do plan on continuing this story… I just have to figure out what to do now. Bad, bad plot bunnies. Running away in the middle of a supposed to be one-shot.

Akari-chan


End file.
